


Twelve's Next Stylist

by WeirdDaydreamingFangirl



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M, Gen, Pre 74th Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 18:42:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5015905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeirdDaydreamingFangirl/pseuds/WeirdDaydreamingFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haymitch would rather be left alone. But Effie had other plans to drag him in which involves hiring the new stylist for 12. What Haymitch thought to be a boring and tiring task turns out to be a discovery to a new face that would later be the spark that starts the fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twelve's Next Stylist

All Haymitch wanted was to spend the last remaining week of solitude before he relived the nightmares outside his mind. Again. As a Hunger Games mentor should yearly. Yet there he was in the Capitol, in the usual District 12 penthouse, picking out the next stylist for this year, with none other than Effie Trinket. The previous stylist for some reason left or maybe got fired. Whatever the reason was, Haymitch forgot. He didn't particularly care. In fact, he could barely remember the details of what Effie was blabbering on about when she had announced to him her intention.

"Just pick the first one," Haymitch had groaned whilst he had talked to her over the phone when she had called the week prior. "No doubt their style will be the same crap as the others,"

"But protocol is to have the escort AND MENTOR to pick the stylist,"

He had never remembered any of his past two escorts ever calling him up for this. For anything for a matter of fact. Surely it was because he's completely unreliable. Probably the smartest thing his escorts ever did. Yet Effie was different. She was smarter than his past escorts ever were but that woman was definitely crazy. On most occasions, such as that moment, he was still thinking twice not to drag her to a mental hospital.

"Come on, Haymitch," she had begged. "I don't really want to break the rules. Besides, you could probably get better alcohol to bring home to keep. Wouldn't you like that?"

Ripper never had alcohol that was as good- or better term would be- as strong as the Capitol booze. And that was what had reeled him to board a train to the Capitol to spend hours perusing through different colored clear books inserted with various photos of skinny models in outrageous outfits, together with the nearly untolerable escort who could drive him insane in a matter of seconds.

"Really Trinket," he tossed the umpteenth neon portfolio in a corner with the others. "They all look like District 8 got hit with a rainbow-glitter beam. Just pick the next one. It won't matter,"

"Just keep looking Haymitch. There is bound to be a genius somewhere in here,"

Haymitch snorted and complied with a grimace. After maybe five or six portfolios, he was just about ready to grab his booze and hail a cab to the train station when he spotted a black cover. It was very muted and different from all the loud colors, as if it wanted to stand out by being quiet. What he found as he flipped through the pages surprised him even more. The designs were phenomenal. They were bold but not too extreme. The colors weren't blinding like most Capitol fashion. He enjoyed flipping through it. Most of what was in the book were sketches but they were pleasant he could tell. Haymitch called Effie over.

"Oh. He must still be new to the industry," Effie said as she was flipping through the pages from over his shoulder, her face too near his for comfort. "Probably from design school. He has lots of sketches yet not much photographs of his clothing being modeled. Yet..." she inspected a particular butterfly dress very closely. "He is quite good. Though would it be wise to hire him? He still hasn't made it big and I'm not sure it would be good for 12's image,"

"Princess," Haymitch snorted. "I'd donate my hand to Chaff and give him my other hand for extra just to save our next tributes from embarrassment this year. Least we could do really,"

Effie's expression turned sour that most people would think she was merely frowning at his ridiculous statement, but it was guilt that only Haymitch could ever spot. Maybe the only reason he ever tolerated her. She was aware of the dark side of her home.

"Besides," Haymitch grumbled to return to their casual mood. "I just want to get this over with. We've been at this all day. Wouldn't want to disrupt your schedule, would I, sweetheart? Lots to do before the big, big day,"

Effie sighed. "I suppose. Let's give him a call so we can schedule for an interview. Perhaps tomorrow?"

Haymitch said an incoherent agreement.

"So we'll have to arrange for your overnight stay in the pen-"

"WHAT? I still have to be here for the interview?"

"As I said it's protocol. Really Haymitch. Haven't your previous escorts done this before? I bet they were very lazy. That's why you are such in bad shape,"

Haymitch would've been taken this as ignorance if it weren't for the tone that he alone could detect that she was only joking. _Wait._ Suddenly, he felt a little warm. _Have I been watching Effie very closely too often?_

He shoved the thought aside and brought back his strong wanting for seclusion.

"Why don't we just do the interview today? I'm sure there's no protocol for that," He realized what if there was and mentally slapped himself for saying the latter bit.

"Actually that is a wonderful idea, there's no protocol for that, yet it's still a bit rude to do so in such short notice," Haymitch was just about ready to tear out his hair. "But I do have an awful lot to do so, let's do it. I'd apologize but we're way behind schedule already and..." Haymitch released a breath that he didn't realize he was holding while Effie dialed the phone. Seeing the gadget made him create a mental note to rip off his own phone from the wall when he got home.

"Alright," Effie piped as she put down the phone. "He is coming in ten minutes. It should give us enough time to clean up this mess,"

The room was filled with strewn neon clear books. It was no problem for Haymitch though. He just shoved them all in Effie's room in the penthouse. Effie was pretty angry and was about to burst into a lecture when there was a knock on the door. Effie glared at Haymitch as if to tell him that she's not done with him, before going off to answer the door. Haymitch followed her, hoping she'll eventually forget about the mess in her room and help out with some other better task instead.

When they arrived at the penthouse door, there were two peacekeepers clutching a man in a black shirt.

"This man claims to be called by you Ms Trinket. Is that true?" asked the peacekeeper.

"I'm Cinna," Despite being manhandled by peacekeepers, he was poise and had this down-to-earth gentleman vibe. "I'm applying to be district 12's stylist. I have the necessary identification here," and he showed a valid ID.

"It's okay. He's with us." Effie assured and the peacekeepers let him go and left.

Effie closed the door and smiled at the man.

"Cinna-"

"You're hired," Haymitch cut off.

"Haymitch! We haven't even started interviewing,"

"I kinda like him already," Haymitch walked toward the guy and gave him a once-over. "Doesn't have as much junk on his face and glitter on their clothes as everyone in this bloody city,"

The only obvious make-up the man had was his golden eyeliner.

"I want to be understated yet daring," Cinna spoke. "I like to create something that would make people remember the tributes. Make an impression,"

Haymitch and Effie looked at each other, very impressed at how the man presented himself and Effie invited him to sit down. They sat on the couch across him.

"So, based on what I saw in your portfolio, it mostly has sketches. You're a fresh graduate from fashion school, am I correct?"

"Actually," Cinna stated matter-of-factly. "I graduated five years ago. I tried to apply for different fashion industries but most people say my designs are too subtle and it won't ever be noticed among all the bright colorful apparel of the Capitol."

"Shame they didn't accept you," Haymitch said in a tone that was far opposite from disappointment. "But on the other hand, it's a good thing too because you landed on our doorstep,"

"I was almost certain I wouldn't be noticed," Cinna confessed. "But my friend encouraged me to give it one last shot. I'm glad she did,"

Effie nodded absentmindedly.

"I have a question though," Haymitch asked. "Why 12?"

"Oh yes. Why?" Effie repeated. "The other districts had their hiring last month. I would've had it that time too if other matters hadn't pushed me to move the date. So?"

"I want 12. I feel like 12 speaks to me," Cinna immediately answered with all honesty and certainty. "The district always goes unnoticed by everybody. The underdog. I want to help them shine. And... and maybe... just maybe,"

Suddenly, Cinna's voice was cracking, along with his mask of politeness and humility. They saw a quiet rage close to exploding. A roaring volcano about to erupt. An unstoppable inferno of justice about to burn down everything that's wrong in its path.

"I can help to finally bring one home," he finally added.

The mentor and escort were stunned. They never saw a Capitol citizen so awfully angry at their own home. Haymitch knew there were Capitol citizens, like Effie when she became part of the Games, who was secretly loathing the system, but this was the first one who was very open about it. Cinna looked about his late 20s. He doesn't realize that anger like that being expressed openly would bring him in danger.

He was young. Foolish. Reckless.

Brave.

Before Haymitch could say anything, Effie spoke the words right out from his mouth.

"You're hired,"

Cinna blinked rapidly and Haymitch rolled his eyes at him.

"You look like you just saw a unicorn. You're hired,"

His gentlemanly aura came back once again. He stood up and gave them a small bow.

"Thank you very much, Ms Trinket," Cinna took Effie's hand and kissed it. "Mr Abernathy," Cinna offered his hand and Haymitch shook it. Haymitch stood up to clap him on the back and took this opportunity to squeeze his shoulder in urgency and leaned in close to the boy to whisper a warning, "You're a good kid and I don't want to see anything bad happen to you. Careful with that anger of yours, okay?"

Cinna nodded almost absentmindedly and turned to Effie who gave him permission to leave. He was about to exit the premises when he turned to them again.

"May I ask something? Have you hired another stylist yet?"

Haymitch heard a slapping sound and then Effie groaned about how stupidly forgetful she was.

"It's just-my friend, Portia. I was helping in arranging her new portfolio for her and I was actually about to bring this to her when you called. She has more experience and hires than I do yet she thinks that I'm better than her. Can you at least look at her portfolio?"

He handed them a dark green clear book and they went through it. The beginning pages looked like the usual outlandish Capitol wardrobe but later on they noticed that her style seemed to be morphing slowly to subtlety. Still not as impressive as Cinna's but it was becoming less stereotypically Capitol.

"I was hoping that I could work with someone I knew so that we could work well together and easily get along not just personally but also get along with our design ideas,"

After his speech, Cinna stood there awkwardly while the other two continued browsing.

"Princess, just hire her," Haymitch whispered.

"Okay," she merely replied.

"Really? Just like that?" he mused. "I wish you were always like this. My life would be so much better,"

"No it won't," she said bluntly then ignored his attempt to banter to beam at Cinna.

"She's in,"

"Really? Should I call her? When would you interview her?"

"Oh there's no need,"

Cinna contained his happiness in what was supposedly a polite smile that looked manic and thanked them again with much enthusiasm. Effie told him that he should go and tell his friend.

"Hey," he called after him. "Don't forget to put all that fire of yours in your fabrics, okay?"

The stylist scrunched his face, then had a wild look on his face.

"Thanks for that, Haymitch," and he nearly ran off with an ecstatic face.

"That wasn't part of protocol for hiring, huh, princess," he spoke after the footsteps were gone.

"Nope,"

"Wow, that's a lot of rebels working in 12," he made himself sound as sarcastic as possible. "I don't how much more interesting the 74th Hunger Games would be,"

Little did anyone know how prophetic all of Haymitch's words were.

**Author's Note:**

> I know it isn't that romantic but there's hayffie there I swear :D It's not my headcanon for hiring stylists but this idea wouldn't leave my head. Hope you'll like it. This is my first post in Ao3 but an old work. You can find it on my fanfiction, pinkish-red hearts :3


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